


riptide.

by fade131



Category: B.A.P
Genre: M/M, alternate universe - fantastical elements, moderately vague sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7671847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fade131/pseuds/fade131
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yongguk comes out here to get away, to breathe, to think, he sits on the weathered stones and weaves stories in the spaces between the sky and the water, some to remember later, to type up and send to agents and editors and talk about at book signings, and some just for now, just for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	riptide.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElatedFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElatedFangirl/gifts).



The storm is unexpected.

Yongguk is out on the breakwater – past the paved section with its small set of benches, past the thin strips of beach where the fishermen spend their early mornings, far out on the rocks where there’s nothing but the pounding of the surf against the jagged stone, the slippery feel of barnacles and seaweed beneath his feet, the shimmering hum of the stars on the water. He comes out here to get away, to breathe, to think, he sits on the weathered stones and weaves stories in the spaces between the sky and the water, some to remember later, to type up and send to agents and editors and talk about at book signings, and some just for now, just for him. This is where he got his inspiration first, when he was younger, brighter, when he laughed sometimes and smiled more often than not. This is where he searches, where he yearns, where he finds the words that breathe life and light and color back into the world; this is where he feels most at peace.

There is no peace to be found there this night, when the wind kicks up, when the waves reach higher and higher, slamming against the breakwater with charging force. He tries to be careful – he’s surprised, off guard, and now he has to make his way back towards land, trying to keep his footing on slippery rocks, his flashlight trained ahead. It’s treacherous, feet sliding, fingers catching jagged stone, and Yongguk finds a solid place to stand for a moment, and turns to face the storm.

It rises like a wild thing, mindless, immense, a thousand shining eyes, a howling dark center, the wind like a vortex ripping at his hair, his clothes. The waves pound against the rocks, relentless, demanding. The storm is merciless, and he in the face of it, striving not to yield, not to be defeated. 

He wakes on the shore.

The sun is barely rising, shimmering gold and red streaks across the water. He’s wet, soaked, sand sticking in his hair, his clothes torn. He can feel the waves lapping gently at his thighs, the cold ocean water numbing his feet, the pounding in his head echoing the raging storm. Someone is humming, next to him, an idle tune that rises and falls, like the sweet pull of the tide. 

He turns, tries to sit up, groaning, and the humming cuts off in a surprised sound, and a splash. When he manages to sit, rubbing his eyes and looking around, there is no one – but he can see the shapes in the sand, where someone had rested beside him.

No one believes him. He does not expect them to, but it would have been a nice change of pace. Youngjae, his agent, sounds concerned on the phone, and tells him to get more rest. There’s no need to rush the next book, he says. You’ve got plenty of time.

Yongguk spends his night gazing out at the water from the safety of his little porch, and wonders.

It’s only a day before Himchan calls him, worried, fretting, what were you doing out on the water so late? You’ll drown next, and then who will put up with me? Yongguk laughs, and tells him not to worry, but he’s too distant, too wrapped up in his thoughts. He knows Himchan will worry anyway.

The next time he goes out, it is as it always was, peaceful, calm, quiet. But when he searches for inspiration, when he tries to pull his words together, to knit them into the shape he wants, nothing comes. And in the distance he can hear singing, soft and sad.

He doesn’t go out on the breakwater again.

Himchan visits, cooks for him and fusses around his little cabin, organizes his papers and complains about his books, tells him to come back to the city for a while, for a weekend, take a break from all this. Yongguk thinks of the song on the water, and shakes his head, and promises to visit sometime soon. If Himchan knows he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t say.

When he leaves again everything is quieter, emptier, and Yongguk doesn’t want that. Suddenly the thing he’s sought so often is the last thing he needs. There’s a bar in the little village, where the fishermen spends their evenings, raucous and warm, and Yongguk goes there, buys a drink and sits in the corner, soaks in the soft yellow light and the laughter and the salt-fish smells, and thinks this is what he wanted.

The walk back down the road is quiet. It’s dark, and the stars shine bright and brilliant in the sky, like diamonds sewn into blue velvet. There’s someone waiting when he gets home, and part of him knew there would be.

He’s never locked the doors – no one does, here – and now his back door is slid half-open, wet footprints leading across the weathered wood floor, down the little hallway to his bedroom. He’s sleeping, when Yongguk steps in the room and lights the lantern by the bed – his shock of silver-pink hair strewn across the pillows, his skin golden in the warm light. His eyes open when Yongguk sits on the edge of the bed and they are wide open pools, drowning black and streaked with light, the moon shining off the waves at night.

“I was waiting for you,” he says, and his voice is warm and low, the endless crash of the waves against the shore.

“I was waiting for you too,” Yongguk responds, and when the words pass his lips he knows they’re true.

The kiss is like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long, and Yongguk presses into it, into him, kisses him until his soft full lips are red and swollen, until they’re both panting. When he leans in again he’s pushed back, this creature in his bed laughing, breathless.

“I’m Daehyun. Now tell me your name.”

“Yongguk,” he manages, a flush rising on his cheeks, but before he can apologize, before he can pull away, Daehyun is dragging him back in, and everything is heat and urgency, fingers tight in his hair and Daehyun’s salt-water skin beneath his lips, and Daehyun’s moans like the thrum of distant music pulsing through the water, each one threatening to pull him under. Daehyun is hesitant and desperate, he is need given form, hot and tight and yielding to Yongguk with aching eagerness. When Daehyun comes apart the tide pulls them both under, shaking shuddering breathlessness, nails dragging sharp down his back, and if this is drowning it’s the sweetest end he could have asked for.

After, Daehyun is warm in his arms, curled against his chest, thigh draped over his hip, and Yongguk threads his fingers into the salt-stiff pink streaking his hair, and holds him while they both fall asleep.

In the morning, he wakes up cold, sprawled out in the wreck of his bed, the comforter barely covering his hips. He almost thinks it’s a dream, a wish, something strange and empty growing inside him.

But when he gets up to pull on pants he notices his sheet is gone, and the sliding door he shut when he came home last night is open again, and when he follows the little sand path through the dunes back down to the water he finds Daehyun there – sheet abandoned in the sand, with a rock to keep it from blowing away in the breeze, and Daehyun stretched out on his stomach, the waves lapping at his hips, the colors in his hair brighter wet. His eyes shine in the sunlight, clear and blue-green as the shallow water around him, and his tanned skin – hot salt yet so sweet, under his mouth, almost sweeter than Daehyun’s little mewls, the way he twisted and laughed when Yongguk tried to kiss every inch of him – melts seamlessly into shimmering pink scales at his hips, golden fins trailing in the water like gossamer fire. 

This should surprise him, Yongguk thinks, but Daehyun is smiling and bright in the sunshine, and he rolls over to rest his head against Yongguk’s thighs when he kneels down beside him.

“It was you,” he says quietly, and Daehyun’s laugh tugs at something inside him, pulls hard but Yongguk is already caught, already won.

“Of course it was me. I couldn’t let you drown.”

Yongguk thinks about this, and his fingers sift idly through Daehyun’s wet hair, silver and pink strands slipping slowly through his fingers.

“And you’re – a mermaid?”

Daehyun laughs, and Yongguk’s stomach swoops dangerously. “A siren. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Have you been calling to me? All this time?”

It’s silent between them for a long moment, and Yongguk closes his eyes. Daehyun hums, the song sweet and soft and mournful, pulling at him like the tide. But it is not an urge out to sea, not dragging him out and under – the pull is here, between them.

“Maybe you were the one calling me,” Daehyun says finally, and he turns over, pushing himself up until he can catch Yongguk’s lips in a kiss. Yongguk drags him closer, into his lap, hands smoothing down his sides and feeling scales melt away into soft skin, Daehyun’s thighs cool from the ocean but warming beneath his palms.

“I’m glad I caught you,” he whispers against Daehyun’s lips, and feels him smile.

“Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, ElatedFangirl, this one's for you. I hope you enjoyed it! <3


End file.
